


The secrets of the night

by bjorn_ironside



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Crucifix, Darkness, Heahmund is the nice bishop, Human/Vampire Relationship, Ivar is a Vampire, Kissing, M/M, Pale Ivar, Rough Kissing, Slow Romance, Teeth, Vampire Bites, Vampire Family, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjorn_ironside/pseuds/bjorn_ironside
Summary: New neighbors are always a hot topic in any city - but Heahmund isn't exactly sure what to think of his new neighbors. Because the pale family seems to have a dark secret with them... especially that young man named Ivar.
Relationships: Heahmund & Ivar (Vikings), Heahmund/Ivar (Vikings)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 65





	1. The boy at the fence

**Author's Note:**

> By now you have to think I'm a freak - but yes, my head never stands still. :D And I know I'm starting way too many projects at the same time - but the new Vikings trailer got me so fixed and crazy! *.* And besides, my dear @maru_gin put this wonderful thought with the vampires in my head... Oh yes. <3  
> Have fun reading, and feel free to leave me feedback if you like it! <3

* * *

“And may God accompany you on your way. Amen."

Heahmund pronounced the last words of his sermon loud and clear - despite the well-attended service, they echoed widely through the walls of the ancient church and triggered the general silent nod of the believers. It was only when the crowd was slowly preparing to leave that Heahmund went down the small steps to the benches.

It was actually like every Sunday; the younger people hid in the back of the pews, while the front pews were always occupied by the older people. So today too.

Heahmund wore a faint smile at the corner of his mouth when he saw the old Mrs. Higgins rise miserably from the bench - she had been old when Heahmund had started as a bishop in this town in the north of England; she must have been ninety years old by now, and yet she went to church every Sunday. Heahmund gave her a friendly nod when she saw him and gave her his arm as a support to help her up from the hard-wooden bench.

“Oh, my good bishop, thank you very much. My bones are no longer what they used to be,” the old woman said and groaned slightly as Heahmund carefully pulled her to her feet in support.

“Well, you can be proud of your age. I'm thrilled that you still go to church. After all, you are ahead of the youth in many ways.”, was Heahmund’s amused answer. He actually accompanied the old woman out of church every Sunday while she told him about her many great-grandchildren. She was also very knowledgeable when it came to neighborhood issues - she lived just three houses away from Heahmund. He had got into the habit of taking her home when he had the time - since there was no confession this Sunday, he took her with him this time too.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as they stopped at a busy intersection; he had long since standardized a bony routine, the same principle every week: church services on the weekends, confessions and lessons for communion and other things during the week. On Tuesdays he helped out in a homeless shelter, and the young apprentices and students also reported to him. He was always busy - but that was all. Thanks to celibacy, he had no way of getting into a public relationship - sure, he had already had one or the other sexual encounter, hidden in secret - unimportant, not exactly exciting encounters with strangers who were not subject to any ties. A lonely life, in a way when Heahmund thought again of all the weeks that had moved back into the country. It was almost October now, and the days were getting shorter, wetter and darker. Not a nice time of the year to be alone.

“You know, and last night, new people actually moved into the empty house next to yours. Have you spoken to them yet?”, Mrs. Higgins' voice tore him from his leaden thoughts; Heahmund glanced sideways before turning on the winker and driving right onto an avenue.

"In the house next to mine?" he asked; he raised an eyebrow in question, while Mrs. Higgins beside him nodded eagerly.

"Didn't you notice?"

Heahmund snorted, slightly amused - probably not, because for the last few days he had buried himself behind a mountain of books with a glass of good red wine.

“Oh no, absolutely not. I am currently examining the students' work for a long time. Did you say in the evening?"

“Oh yes, don't you find that strange too? One would think that people generally move during the day. Well, maybe they are from further away. It's a family, I saw it from my living room window. There was only one woman there, I assume it was the mother. They had a lot of children, almost all boys! Big guys, partly. Imagine moving in the evening... They dragged all the furniture in until at least 10 p.m.! I wanted to call the police first because of the noise. However, I didn't know whether they might be foreigners."

Heahmund listened to the old lady's words and nodded slightly when she had finished. He didn't find it particularly unusual for someone to be dragging furniture late in the evening. One never knew where these people came from, and maybe they'd had a journey of several hours.

“I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. Higgins - it always depends on how these moving companies operate. Nowadays they are mostly available and usable 24 hours a day. In any case, I didn't notice anything today."

"Well, you don't want to hope so, on holy Sunday!"

Heahmund turned into their street. It was a small street with a dead-end where there were a few houses. Most of them were from the earlier times, including Heahmund's house. However, he had modernized it in consultation with the church before moving in years ago. The street was quiet and there were hardly any children playing in it; it wasn't a busy street either.

With a slight sigh he stopped in front of Mrs. Higgins' house and helped the old lady out of his car; she thanked him several times and waved him goodbye before Heahmund set off again and drove the last three houses to his own.

As he got out, he glanced over at the house, which had been empty until now a few months ago.

In fact, there were two cars parked there, two Mercedes Benz that apparently weren't that old, and the moving van was actually still there. But there was no sign of life in the house - the shutters were all down and there was a strange silence on the property.

Heahmund stood for a moment and frowned; by God, he had never once heard that someone had moved in, especially not at that late hour. He had nothing noticed this morning either. Usually people around here knew each other, and when someone came along, they would introduce themselves to everyone in a few days at the latest. Maybe you just had to give these people some time.

Heahmund closed the door of his car behind him and took another look at the house. When an icy wind blew around his body, however, he pulled the collar of his black jacket a little higher and set off for his house.

The day dragged on into the evening - apart from a delicious meal of steak and potatoes, Heahmund had only buried himself in the books and corrected a few exams the theology students had written last week. It was an almost leaden routine, and after the third glass of wine Heahmund could no longer bear the lyre and went from his desk in his office room to the living room onto his couch.

The wine glass still in his hand, both legs resting on the armrest, he switched through the TV program - he was actually in the mood for some sex again. He hadn't had sex in a long time, probably a few months, and all that went with him were his nocturnal, mature fantasies and his right hand. But that is by no means a substitute for physical love.

"Damn it!"

Lost in thought, Heahmund had spilled some wine on his shirt; with a low cursing he went into the kitchen and tried to repair the worst damage with a cloth and some water. But no doubt - wine stains would never come off a white shirt. When Heahmund put down the cloth with a sigh, his gaze fell on the side of the kitchen - he had accumulated way too many bottles of wine and it was time to take them out.

So, he put on a hoodie, half-heartedly pulled the zipper up and took five bottles outside. On the side of his house were the garbage cans, pushed with the back against the almost belly-high wooden fence that bordered the other property. To the property of the new neighbors.

Heahmund always had a small box outside in which he collected glass bottles until he could take them away. Even now he bent down and pushed the five bottles to the rest of them that had gathered there and pushed everything together with a slight clink.

When he got up, he almost had a sudden heart attack and immediately jumped three feet back; there was a slight clink in the silence of the evening as one bottle fell loudly to the ground.

"Jesus!"

A slight scream escaped him, and it took him a moment to gasp for air - for there by the fence, completely silent in the dark, stood a young man and stared at him wordlessly.

Heahmund didn't know if it was the darkness or the dim lantern light, but the young man looked incredibly pale. He stood still by the middle of the fence, his pale blue eyes fixed on Heahmund; he wore black clothes that didn't exactly make him look like the cheerfulness of nature, and the boy's uncanny pallor was accentuated by light shadows under his eyes. He looked a little sickly, maybe - Heahmund thought that although he was physically well built, he looked like he hadn't had enough to eat recently. Black, full and pulled back hair rounded off the slightly eerie image of the young man who was still staring at Heahmund - full lips that showed no smile, but no denial either. Neither nor. They were strangely expressionless, and the dark eyebrows knitted slightly as Heahmund let out a deep gasp.

“You scared me.” Heahmund uttered and sat up with slightly trembling limbs; he had absolutely not heard the boy. He must have been as quiet as a cat, perhaps having taken a joke out of giving Heahmund a little scare - but the smile for this joke was clearly missing.

The boy didn't laugh, he just cocked his head a little to the side; the eyebrows relaxed again, and the pale blue eyes lingered on Heahmund’s face.

"I'm sorry," the boy said in a slightly scratchy voice, and wrinkled his fine, pointed nose slightly. Heahmund had to admit that the boy had an incredibly pretty face despite his paleness - everything looked very fine, somehow noble, even if the boy was wearing a dark hoodie like him. He had pulled back the hood slightly as if he was cold. No wonder with that paleness, Heahmund thought, and took a step towards the neighbor.

Barely noticeably, he took a slight step back; Heahmund didn't know why, but it didn't bother him. After all, it was dark, and he was the strange, much older man. He didn't want to scare anyone either, so he decided to keep this distance.

“That doesn't matter. To be honest, I didn't notice you moved in there - I'm working a bit hard at the moment. It wasn't on purpose. Did you arrive last night?” Heahmund asked, trying to sound as natural as possible - but something made him feel strangely uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the cool autumn weather and the light drizzle that had set in; or it was just the strange situation. Heahmund was used to the other adolescents - how old was the boy, maybe 18, 19? – but the others seemed far more rebellious and wilder, or shy and respectful. But this young man did not seem to be one of them, and it was precisely this stubborn reserve and silence that gave Heahmund a strange feeling.

The boy wrinkled his nose very slightly again, and his pale face still didn't twist. Heahmund had noticed that the boy had hardly blinked at all since those pale blue eyes were fixed on him; it was so strange, so rigid. Like talking to a statue that had frightened him so damn. Like a ghost.

It was a moment before the boy parted his full, slightly rosy lips; the answer, like the little apology at the beginning, was quite quiet.

"Yes, last night. We were out all day, which is why we had to move a little late. What is your job exactly?"

Heahmund had to swallow; he pulled the zipper of his hoodie a little higher because he had gotten goose bumps on his back out of nowhere. He returned the boy's stare as best he could and even smiled slightly.

“I am Bishop of the Church here in town. So, if your family is also Christian, then we will definitely see each other."

The boy put on a slight, minimal smile; the corners of his mouth wrinkled only very slightly, barely visible, but he showed no teeth. It was like an extremely reserved, back held smile from someone at whose expense a bad joke had been made.

"I don't think my family is orientated that Christian.", the boy answered quietly; the gaze of his blue eyes was now directed from Heahmund’s face to his neck and chest, as if he was looking for something there; but after a few seconds the staring eyes were fixed on his face again. Heahmund felt strange; somehow that look triggered something sinister in him. He felt watched, as if he was being targeted by someone who would do him no good. With a quick, nervous blink he glanced at the neighbour's house, but couldn't see anyone at the window. The shutters were up by now and Heahmund could see the glow of electric lamps. Even if from an extremely soft point of view.

“Well, of course I don't force anyone to worship, and I don't judge any other faith either. If you need help with moving, or anything else, please let me know. I can schedule a certain time to tackle something.“, Heahmund replied and bit his lip; he had never had such a strange conversation with a young man. But what should he do? He valued friendliness in the neighborhood. He had always done that.

“Thank you very much for the offer, but I think we'll be fine on our own. I have four brothers left and we're almost done.” The slight hoarseness in the boy's voice made Heahmund's body twitch inside again; he could only tell it came from the bad weather. The boy put on the little smile again and took a cautious step back; his feet made almost no noise on the lawn, although there were little dry leaves lying around, just as in Heahmund’s garden. Heahmund could see the boy's face even better through the soft, yellowish light of the street lamp; it was really terribly pale, but the skin seemed to be as smooth as a mirror; Heahmund couldn't see any wrinkles in the facial expressions except for the slightly furrowed forehead. However, he did not find any signs of warmth there either; even the boy's hollow cheeks were as pale as the rest of his appearance.

"As I said, with all problems or whatever - you know where to find me.", Heahmund said cheerfully; he saw that the pale boy nodded barely noticeably. A sudden noise tore the two out of the conversation; a rumble had come from the neighbors' house, followed by a swear.

The boy groaned softly and crossed his arms over his chest; his nose wrinkled slightly again, so that the fine, delicate tip of the nose rose slightly. "I have to go now. Thank you for your kindness, Bishop."

“My name is Heahmund. It's okay.", Heahmund answered and gave the boy one last smile; although the latter did not return the smile, he looked at Heahmund with a slightly appraising expression; the dark eyebrows rose, and he spoke softly when he said: "Ivar."

"Nice to meet you, Ivar."

Ivar nodded slightly, then turned to walk towards the back door; Heahmund looked after him with a broad frown. What a strange name. He knew a lot of people from the village, but he didn't think this name sounded very modern. Maybe they really came from abroad, that could very well be possible... Heahmund decided to ask about it when the opportunity arose.

Nevertheless, the slight shock from before was still in his bones; he just couldn't explain how the boy could sneak up so silently, with all the dry leaves in the garden. Heahmund glanced at the wine bottles previously stowed in his box; they stood very still, only one had fallen over. A strange tingling sensation made its way down his neck as he bent down and picked up the fallen bottle; almost startled he got up again, but this time no pale boy lurked in the sheer, oppressive darkness at the fence and stared at him.

With a slight shaking of his limbs, Heahmund decided to go back inside; he took one last look over at the house, which still looked abandoned, even though the lights were already on. And although no one was staring at him from the slightly dusty windows, he could not get rid of the strange feeling that something was watching him out of the darkness.

That night, for the first time, he slept bad - worse than he had in a long time.

* * *


	2. The unexpected visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! :) Finally I found some time to actually try to update all the storys that I started. :D Have fun with this one! Are you a fan of slow build, or do you like to have it explicit fast? ;)

Although the night had been a nightmare for Heahmund, he got up early the next day. He was used to following his routine - and even having bad dreams or waking up in the middle of the night with the strange feeling that someone had been standing in the corner watching him wouldn't let him stray.

When he looked into the mirror in his bathroom, he let out a dry laugh.

"Great, the age is slowly becoming noticeable," he muttered to his reflection in the mirror, and began to trim his beard. As he was shortening the coarse stubble to a reasonable length, yesterday's boy at the fence came back to his head for a brief moment. It had been dark, but Heahmund was actually sure that the boy had been sick. He still had the pale, far too bright eyes exactly in his head, as well as the stare of the boy, which even now in broad daylight gave him goose bumps. Something, _something_ had been damned strange, but what it was he couldn't place under any circumstances. Or maybe he was just taking everything too seriously. After all, the family may have had a long journey and had just been exhausted.

After Heahmund had put on his jacket and shoes, he went outside with a slight snort. He had tucked the work of the young candidates under his arms and was just unlocking his car when his gaze fell again to the quiet house next to his. It was strange; the complete shutters were pulled down. Even if it was early, at least one had to be up, maybe the mother of the boys. With a soft thud, the works fell into the passenger seat of the car and Heahmund slammed the door.

His steps were not careful, but extremely thoughtful, as he walked towards the neighbors' house, his eyes fixed and eyebrows furrowed. A light breeze played around the property and Heahmund pulled the zipper of his jacket up.

Leaves crunched under his feet as he walked down the somewhat windy path to the door; nobody here had done anything in the garden for a long time. Heahmund was actually glad that someone would take care of the property again, because it was actually quite a beautiful home. Heahmund took a deep breath before he went up the wide steps to the front door and with a slight hesitation rang the bell.

He felt silly that his heart was beating a little harder than usual. It was just dumb as well. But he couldn't stop it, even if the excitement seemed completely in vain. Because nothing in the house indicated that anyone would approach the door; no lights came through the frosted glass of the pane, and no noises came out. Even in a cemetery there was more activity, Heahmund thought. Even the birds around him were silent.

When the wind came up again, Heahmund decided that it was pointless to keep trying; maybe they had worked all night and there was no way he wanted to leave a bad impression by ringing everyone awake.

He made his way back to his car with a strange tingling sensation in his neck; and just before he turned, he glanced back. But nothing had changed.

* * *

It was late when Heahmund unlocked the door to his house on that evening; he had worked hard all day, and his mind was buzzing with all the questions from the young aspirants about the Church. They were currently in the process of devoting themselves to the somewhat gloomy chapters in the history of the Church: the Middle Ages, the even older writings of the oldest mysteries. Ancient writings, some of which only existed in Latin; Heahmund loved it very much, but today his strength was exhausted.

He was tired when he was hanging his jacket on the wardrobe and was just about to pull his shirt over his head, when his doorbell suddenly rang out of nowhere. Heahmund was so perplexed that he had seriously to think for a moment about what to do next – he stood like an idiot in the middle of the hallway and stared at the door, until he remembered with a twitch of better things to do, pulled his shirt back down and opened the door with a very perplexed expression on his face.

And indeed, for a moment he caught his breath as he opened the door and a pale figure was slowly illuminated by the light from the lamp in the hallway; Heahmund blinked slightly when a narrow, but far friendlier smile than yesterday leaped at him from the darkness.

"Ivar!" Heahmund said, perplexed; he had expected everything, his students, Mrs. Higgins, or even Billy from the neighborhood, who liked to pick up biscuits from him - but not _Ivar_.

Bright eyes stared at him, and despite the weak smile Heahmund immediately got goose bumps again when he saw the still very pale boy standing in front of his door. Heahmund met his eyes when the familiar, slightly scratchy voice tore him from his thoughts.

“Hello, Bishop. I hope I don't bother you at this late hour. I saw you were back, and I thought I'd introduce myself. It was a little short yesterday.", the boy said, and Heahmund nodded silently. He was still too perplexed to return the pretty smile he was given; it wasn't a normal smile, rather reserved and without showing the teeth, but still it was far friendlier than yesterday.

It was only when Ivar tilted his head slightly that Heahmund gave a slight twitch and cleared his throat.

“Of course, well - no, you don't bother me at all. Sorry, I'm still at work in my head. Come in, if you like.", Heahmund replied and put on a smile; he opened the door wider and pressed himself lightly to the side to make room for Ivar.

It was a tiny moment that passed before Ivar entered. When his feet stepped on the old wooden floor of Heahmund’s hallway, the boy looked for a moment as if he didn’t trust the house; it almost felt like the light blue eyes looked into every corner and were particularly curiously focused on the walls of the hallway. Heahmund was patient; he waited until the boy was fully inside and only then closed the door behind them. Immediately the blue eyes turned back to Heahmund; Heahmund tried to stifle the constant tingling in his neck and smiled pleasantly while Ivar lifted his head slightly.

"A nice house," the boy said softly; he didn't blink this time either when he looked at Heahmund. It was like a deep stare, and it was also a little creepy. In the light of the lamp, Heahmund saw everything very precisely for the first time: he could see Ivar’s extremely fine, albeit extremely pale skin, which had no wrinkles or veins; only a small, fine scar adorned his right cheek. It stood out minimally from the smooth pale skin, like a soft bump; there was no color or sign of warmth on his high cheekbones. The fine, pointed nose and the noble, pretty facial features still looked far more relaxed than yesterday at the fence.

Like yesterday he was wearing dark clothes, but this time a soft sweatshirt. Heahmund unconsciously glanced at Ivar’s fine throat and neck; the perfectly shining skin disappeared like a breath into the black clothes.

"Thanks. You don't have a jacket with you?”, Heahmund asked; Ivar shook his head with a soft smile.

“I'm not particularly cold. It was colder where I come from, so this is normal weather for me."

Heahmund liked the sound of the voice. It was a bit rough and scratchy, much like his - only one pitch higher. And although the boy's constantly staring gaze made him feel slightly uncomfortable, he did not hesitate in his hospitality.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked and went into the kitchen; he didn't hear any noise, but when he turned to Ivar, he was already standing in the doorway and staring into the kitchen with a slight wrinkle on his forehead. He leaned against the door frame; however, he did not enter the kitchen.

"No, thank you.", was the rather quiet answer, and Heahmund clicked his tongue; he took two glasses from the shelf and opened the refrigerator.

"I'm not a bad host, so you will have to accept this offer for better or for worse." Heahmund replied, amused; his gaze fell on the wine he had put there just a few hours ago. "How old are you? Are you allowed to drink yet?”, he added; when he was waiting for an answer, Heahmund looked over at Ivar.

Ivar smiled slightly; his right eyebrow was raised, and his arms crossed slightly. He seemed to be amused by something, even if his features were more like a stone than a laughing face; when Heahmund raised an eyebrow questioningly, Ivar parted his lips softly.

"I'm 19. Theoretically I can drink," he said gently; Heahmund rolled his eyes slightly.

"And practically?"

"Practically, my parents don't really like it," Ivar muttered; the pale blue eyes continued to stare at Heahmund. "We were brought up very strictly, Bishop."

There was something mocking and somewhat provocative in the young voice, and it took Heahmund a moment; he bit his lip lightly as he then poured a little wine into the two glasses. Although he didn't hear any sound, he could see from the corner of his eye that Ivar was moving slightly.

“Well, your parents won't be able to do anything against being polite. And please call me Heahmund.", was Heahmund's answer; he knew the youth in the village well and they liked him. Although Ivar was strange and somehow different from the others, Heahmund knew that they would never say no to alcohol.

Ivar looked intensely at Heahmund; the pale blue eyes were clear, although the boy hadn't blinked in what seemed like forever; his fine, pointed nose wrinkled slightly when Heahmund held out the wine in the glass; long pale fingers slowly rose out of nowhere, and Ivar gripped the clear stem of the glass. It almost looked like it was strange for him to hold this glass - the light blue eyes immediately fixed on the dark red liquid, and he wrinkled his fine nose again. He had taken great care not to touch Heahmund’s hand.

And for Heahmund - well, it had been a strange feeling to be so close to the boy. There seemed to be a strange chill emanating from him, and Ivar's behavior puzzled him. But maybe he really just had been raised differently.

After examining the glass and the wine in it critically enough, Ivar raised his bright eyes again to look at Heahmund; the latter had leaned against the other door frame and took a sip.

"How long have you been bishop, Heahmund?" Ivar asked softly; his fingers still held the glass extremely pointed and strangely pricked; as if there was something poisonous in it. But Heahmund paid no more attention to it, because his eyes were far too distracted from studying the features of Ivar’s fine face. It took him a moment to find an answer - his eyes made it difficult for him. Something was wrong with them, Heahmund was almost _certain_. It wasn't the fact that he hardly blinked at all - it was rather what he could read in it - or maybe _not_. It was like a deep sea, illegible and as cold and gray as water. But there was still something in it, something ancient and yet young. Something timeless.

“For a few years now. An iron routine, one might think. The church is losing its meaning in the modern world, I have a feeling."

"Is it doing that?" Ivar asked curiously; his eyebrow rose and, although he wasn't really smiling, a small grin creased the corner of his mouth. The full lips parted slightly and Heahmund let out a light laugh.

"Oh yeah. As a non-churchgoer you ought to be happy.“, Heahmund said with a slightly rough undertone; he took another sip from the glass, and leaned his head back slightly against the door frame. His gaze did not avoid Ivar’s, even if the constant goosebumps on the neck seemed to warn him.

Ivar eyed Heahmund with what appeared to be curiosity; he hadn't taken a sip yet, but still didn't seem averse to their conversation.

“I was once very religious - but that was years ago. Half an eternity. When I was... younger.", Ivar replied; the blue eyes studied Heahmund’s face just as he did with his.

"You are 19," Heahmund stated dryly; his dark brows rose and for the first time it seemed that Ivar wanted to smile properly; the corners of his mouth lifted up tightly, but he didn't show his teeth. But the blue eyes shimmered.

"Of course. I meant when I was smaller.”, Ivar corrected himself and took a step back into the hallway; with the wine glass still untouched in his hand, he took a few steps and examined the pictures in Heahmund’s hallway. His dark eyebrows drew together as he studied a picture of Picasso; small wrinkles formed on the forehead, Heahmund saw it clearly when he stood with a little distance behind Ivar and also looked at the picture. They were silent for a moment; only Heahmund’s soft breathing could be heard, and the soft ticking of his grandfather’s clock in the living room.

"I hate modern art." Ivar uttered suddenly; a soft snort followed, and Heahmund raised his eyebrows in perplexity.

"What?" he said, and still couldn't help laughing; this boy was crazy.

“I don't like this painting. Corners, edges, wild colors. Do you know what I like?” Ivar said and turned around to Heahmund so quickly that Heahmund almost choked on his wine; it was amazing how the boy just never seemed to make any noise. His parents had to be able to live in peace, provided that his siblings were just as quiet.

"No." Heahmund muttered, amused; his gaze met the boy's still fixed gaze, and Ivar gave a soft grin.

“Paintings from the Middle Ages. The dark era. Rembrandt, Gothic, Black Romanticism. So much naturalness and yet always with the mortal gaze. My favorite picture is _the Nachtmahr_."

"Very gloomy," Heahmund said; he took another sip and tried to stifle the thrilling throbbing in his veins that this conversation was giving him. He consciously tried not to direct his gaze to the boy's body, he _deliberately_ tried not to see the eyes and their shimmer as flirting. Ivar was too young - and far too strange. Even if he found it damn difficult, because Ivar’s eyes took on a different, glimmering shimmer, while his pretty head lifted slightly. Heahmund believed to see the beginning of a sharp canine tooth while Ivar was smiling in the glow of the light, when Ivar said provocatively: “As an ancient bishop you must like that. The darkness. How else are you going to get rid of the bad things?"

Heahmund snorted in amusement; he passed Ivar easily and set his glass on the dresser. A sudden and heavy goosebump had hit him hard when he had touched Ivar’s shirt; the boy had felt strangely stubborn and hard, as if he had grown into the place. But he went on and pushed his way through the door frame into the living room.

Although he didn't hear any footsteps behind him, he could feel that Ivar was moving towards the door frame - as in the kitchen, however, he remained standing in the door frame and stared curiously around the room. Something in his eyes was darkening, however. When Heahmund turned to him he could see a slight, puckered crease between his browbones, and he looked strangely distant.

"Here.", Heahmund said and pointed to the large picture that he had hanging over his sofa. It showed nothing more and nothing less than the descent of sinners into hell. Horrible grimaces were in the picture, demons, and people tormented by pain and agony. It was an ancient painting from the Middle Ages - the colors were dark, realistic, and exactly the style Heahmund had suspected Ivar liked.

"The hell. Oh yes.” Ivar uttered; his face had lost all looseness, it seemed; the boy looked strangely tense.

"Do you want to take a closer look?" Heahmund asked and took a step back to examine the picture completely; when he heard nothing, however, he turned back to the door frame.

Ivar had stiffened slightly and was no longer leaning loosely against the door frame; his whole body seemed to be under tension, and his bright eyes roamed strangely restlessly through the room until they found Heahmund’s eyes again. Heahmund didn't know what it was - but something had changed. Something bothered the boy deeply, even if he didn't know what it was.

Did he say something wrong?

“I - I think I have to go now. It's getting late and I've got some work to do.” Ivar muttered; almost silently he pulled himself out of the door and put the glass of wine on the dresser in the hallway. When Heahmund followed, Ivar was almost out of the front door.

"Are you okay?"

Ivar stopped; his bright, wide eyes fixed on Heahmund, and he nodded slightly. Even if his face still had the slight crease between his eyebrows, the pale boy put on a slight smile.

"Yes. We will definitely see each other again. Sleep well, Heahmund.", Ivar said strangely dryly, and then disappeared into the darkness of the street without making any great noise.

Heahmund stood in the doorway for a moment and stared at the spot where the boy had silently disappeared. He didn't know what it was - but something about Ivar completely irritated him. It might be that he came from a distant land - and yet, it was almost as if Heahmund was scared of him. Just _different,_ like a hidden fear deep inside of him. It was almost as if the constant goosebumps on his body wanted to urgently warn him against being too close to this boy.

He frowned for a moment, then closed the door and was about to go into the living room when he noticed the two glasses. Ivar hadn't taken a single sip - the wine stood there untouched and shone warmly in the light of the lamp. Strange for a teenager, but maybe he just really wasn't a drinker.

Heahmund took the two glasses and set them down in the kitchen. He emptied Ivar’s glass, and when he was about to wash them both off, a loud bang suddenly ripped him out of his thoughts and gave him a terrible shock.

When he turned around, he saw that the wooden crucifix had fallen from the wall. It was near the doorframe that Ivar had leaned against until half an hour ago. With a sigh, Heahmund put down the glasses and bent down to the cross to pick it up - and when he stood on his feet again, the cross in his hand, violent goose bumps mixed with slight fear came over him again - which ran up into the highest ends of his dark hair. He looked at the cross in his hand; it was already very old - it had been given to him back then as a present. With a low groan he hung it up over the door again.

After washing the glasses, he sat on the couch with a glass of water and watched a little TV. But again and again his gaze glanced up at the painting of Hell, at the contorted faces of sinners. He sighed deeply; what a strange, _strange_ day. His eyes wandered from the picture of hell directly to the painting next to it, and he smiled slightly.

It showed Jesus Christ nailed to the cross and a wonderful, warm sunrise - and Heahmund would have liked to feel the warm rays of the sun on his skin again.

When he went to bed that evening, he decided to give some satisfaction to his sinful thoughts - he jerked himself off extremely intensely while thinking of Ivar’s incredibly smooth, beautiful skin and the deep blue of the lovely, bright eyes.

And yet, that same night he couldn't shake away the feeling that those eyes were staring at him out of the darkness.


	3. About demons and wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys... <3 Thank you very much for your feedback last time, I really didn't expect that! :) Thank you so so much! Have fun with the new chapter! :) And have a great start into the week!  
> P.S.: Who is also a bit in love with these dark subjects? ;)

* * *

“We have drifted into this somewhat alienated subject for a reason - it is just as much a part of the teaching of the Church as other subjects. You are not only learning how to lead the Church in general, how to learn all about our history – because, for where there is light, there is also darkness. And demonology is and always has been a part of our teaching. So, please open your books to page 365."

Heahmund’s voice was so present in the room that it echoed slightly. He had 12 pupils in front of him, as every time; and they were already immersed in the history of the doctrines and mysteries of the Church, but today came subjects which even Heahmund himself found fascinating - even if he had never wanted to admit it. But darkness had always been a part of the history of the Church, parts of its cruelty - witch burnings in the Middle Ages, exorcism, the teaching of evil. Creatures that everyone actually considered to be figments - which the Church officially rejected and whose existence it had often denied. But Heahmund knew that the Church has always made it a point to bring up the dark subjects - for they were just as much a part of history as the many teachings of God and the Bible.

There was quite a bit of rustling as the diligent aspirants opened their books. Excited murmurs went through the rows, and Heahmund couldn't help but put on a slight grin; he had expected it. No matter how good the students were at their other doctrines, everyone got excited here.

They lingered over the books for a while, reading eagerly, until Heahmund leaned his lower back against the desk and investigated his class. There was silence soon and he raised an eyebrow.

"Who can tell me something about exorcism?" he asked; it took a moment, but then Justin's finger hesitantly lifted up. Heahmund liked him; he was a hardworking and intelligent student, but he took some things too seriously. Heahmund waited a moment; when nobody else answered, however, he nodded to Justin with a soft gesture.

Justin swallowed; then he began to answer quietly. "Well, exorcism is a kind of mass that is held to free a man possessed from his torment."

“And how do you free him? And above all - from what?"

"I - mean, one clears him of demons, Bishop Heahmund."

Heahmund nodded in amusement and pushed himself away from the desk. He went to the board and wrote down some of the points. Some students now also lifted their hands; when Heahmund finished writing, he nodded to them.

“You have to free the body from the chains of the demons, and it is different in every mass. You ask the possessed person for the name of the demon that sits in the body."

"Yes, and you have to tie him up!"

“Only God can set him free. And it always works."

Heahmund listened patiently to some of these answers; however, he did not write everything down. For a moment he looked around, and in a way, he had always loved it - because it unsettled them all. He smiled slightly before going back to the desk.

“You know a lot, but not everything. An exorcism doesn't work for everyone. We know many real cases, such as that of Anneliese Michel; although the possessed was extremely religious and also a virgin, she died in the exorcism carried out. And you don't have to forcibly tie up the possessed. Sometimes they fall into a kind of rigidity from which they cannot get out for hours. These are abnormal gestures; you can see it on page 370."

There was a hasty rustle of pages, and the students turned the pages curiously through the book. Heahmund grinned slightly; he knew this hour would captivate them.

Justin's hand went up again.

"Have you already carried out an exorcism, Bishop Heahmund?"

Heahmund smiled lightly; he put both arms on the desk and sighed slightly. “Yes, a few times. It's not a nice experience, and you should be happy if that never happens to you in your career. It is not nice to see believers suffer. And we're talking about extreme agony."

Justin nodded; he looked slightly pale.

Heahmund waited, but most of them were either absorbed in the pictures or looked at Heahmund in shock.

“How can it be that good people are attacked? Do you have any idea?"

There was silence after Heahmund’s question, and none of those present answered. He waited a moment, then went back to the board. _Dark creatures_ , he wrote on it, and then turned back.

“You know, there is so much good in the world, but there is also so much bad. There are as many bad and dark beings as there are light ones. Angels are the pure souls that we all would like to become, free souls in the light of God. And yet it does exist - the dark side. There are not only demons, who are disembodied and can attack a person. There are also other dark beings who can usurp human souls. Do you know any?” Heahmund said slowly; the oppressive silence was broken again by hurried leafing through, and this time Matthew's hand went up first.

“Bishop Heahmund, you don't mean - ghosts? Or beings like... werewolves?"

He seldom had so many pairs of eyes on him at the same time as now - but the pupils' eyes bulged out so much that Heahmund almost laughed.

“Oh yes, _exactly_ these ones. There are many dark beings that are physical and that threaten humans in a different way than exorcism. Look at page 375."

The pupils leafed through the pages again eagerly, and Heahmund also reached behind him and blindly reached for his book; he hadn't read these chapters in a very long time. He opened his book and when he got to the page, he suddenly caught his breath for a moment.

He stared at the picture of an extremely pale, painted figure; the fingers long and pointed, the face pale and dead, and long, pointed canine teeth protruding from the creature's mouth; rigid eyes decorated the picture, and Heahmund narrowed his eyes slightly. For a moment he had been very uncomfortable, and faint goose bumps ran over his skin. The picture showed a slightly elderly looking vampire.

There was a sucked-out corpse underneath the vampire, and two bites on the neck marked the place where the vampire had bitten. The victim lay empty and with a horror on its dead face; eyes dull to the sky.

"There... there we have them," he muttered softly; he was still staring at the picture, and he ran his thumb lightly over it. He was amazed that this particular picture completely took over him, although this had never been the case before - and yet the sight triggered something in him today.

"Vampires," he added with a croak; it was only with difficulty that he lifted his eyes from the book and looked into a class full of students who looked puzzled. He coughed lightly, then continued. “Well, these are by far the oldest beings we deal with here. I can assure you, I've never seen one in my career. It is rumored that they have long been extinct. However, the Church has always been in close contact with them, and they are no strangers to today's film industry. So, who can tell me how to recognize a vampire?"

Several hands went up and Heahmund gave a slight snort. "You've _clearly_ seen too many films," he uttered, and the class laughed.

"Justin."

“Vampires never go out in daylight, or in sunlight, because it kills and burns them. Besides, they don't like garlic."

"Matthew?"

“They can't stand the Lord’s crucifixes. It repels them."

"Charles."

“You can actually see them very easily, because they are very pale and always seem so rigid. Like a wax figure! Their bodies are freezing cold, because they are dead. And the only way to kill them is to put a stake through their hearts. And they sleep in coffins."

"Lester?"

"They like to go to cemeteries and suck the blood out of their victims' throats."

Heahmund raised an eyebrow; his students had mentioned some of the things that were true, and he was surprised at the number of answers. He leaned back slightly and snorted slightly.

“You mentioned a lot of what is true. But not everything corresponds to the cliché. So, I don't think garlic will put them off. And crucifixes don..."

A picture suddenly flashed through Heahmund's head, as if out of nowhere - he remembered last night, Ivar's visit. The boy hadn't gone into the kitchen or the living room. And then he remembered the fallen wooden cross that had always hung over his kitchen clock...

_No,_ his head said _. Stop that shit. These are horror stories._

The class stared at him, and Heahmund swallowed, forcing himself back into reality.

“Crucifixes don't make them run away, they… just don't like them. Like when you see something gross. But it's easy to fight back against an attack. Or rather, you can evade an attack a little from the start. Vampires cannot enter a house if they have not been invited."

_Pale skin, curious, bright eyes that had passed over his walls, watching every corner._ Heahmund’s thoughts circled.

"Do you recognize vampires immediately?", one pupil asked.

“Not today’s ones, I think. They are... probably adapted to the times. But like I said-" He closed the book in his hands with a soft pressure that made some in the front row startled; “They are extinct. There have been no sightings or records whatsoever in the last few centuries. Still, it's one of the exam topics. Just like werewolves. So, who can tell me...?"

Heahmund’s thoughts drifted away after a while. When he was giving his students assignments after a while, he sat on his chair and turned to the pages about vampires again. He read it through, and a slight goosebump passed over his body when he looked at the pictures; the sight ran through his limbs like a soft shiver, like the look of bright eyes that never seemed to blink.

* * *

He kept biting his lip, chewing his soft lower lip thoughtfully, and he kept staring constantly at the wall above the door in the kitchen.

He didn't know what was wrong with him - he'd been standing here for half an hour, motionless, staring at that stupid cross over the door that had been hanging there for ages. And yet one foolish thought did not let go of him.

In his mind, he had laughed at himself for more than 20 times for this idea now - dismissed it as ridiculous, because it was just stupid. But what if? Heahmund folded his arms over his chest and continued to stare at the cross. It was already late, and the darkness crept slowly in front of the window and replaced the actually beautiful day. If not one thought kept circling Heahmund’s head.

_What if._

There were all kinds of theories, the strangest things in the world and especially in Christianity. If one could believe in God, in angels, in Jesus - why wasn't there also the possibility that other things existed very closely?

His eyebrows drew together and after another five thoughtful minutes, he reached up and removed the cross from the wall.

He put it in a drawer in his living room - he felt infinitely stupid, and yet the thought of what would happen the next time he had visitors excited him.

_It was a stupid, unprovable theory. A thought. A fear deep in the blood, maybe._

And yet Heahmund could not help but remove the cross and wait.

Three days passed when the doorbell suddenly rang late one evening. Heahmund had just put on a fresh white shirt as he came freshly from the shower; his hair was still slightly tangled and damp, and he was only wearing gray sweatpants because he had not expected any more visitors. Still, after getting up from the sofa, he went to the door with a low sigh and opened it.

He paused for a moment, then put on a soft smile. It was Ivar, and to Heahmund’s amazement, he was smiling. Not as broad and profitable as other people did, but he smiled. He looked in a much better mood than last time; at first, his eyes didn't seem quite as rigid and dull as usual, and he took a step up the stairs towards the light from Heahmund’s house. He had fixed his eyes on Heahmund.

"Good evening, Bishop," he said finely, and Heahmund let out a soft snort.

“You always come very late, don't your parents mind? Afterwards they might think I'm a criminal.", Heahmund replied, looking at Ivar just as unabashedly as he at him; the bright eyes sent a slight shiver down his spine, but he still tried to ignore it.

"A Criminal? A man of the church? Except for rape you don't do anything wrong.”, Ivar smiled cheekily; Heahmund only now noticed that he was holding a kind of bottle in his pale fingers, but that he was still holding it a little to his side. He remained on the top step; Heahmund nodded.

"Come on in," Heahmund said after a few seconds, and Ivar put on a smile before setting his foot over the threshold. Today he was wearing white sneakers and black jeans, as well as a gray, fluffy hoodie that didn't make him look quite as pale as usual. Heahmund made way for him; as always, the boy's eyes darted curiously across the room before turning back to Heahmund.

He lifted the bottle in his thin hand and grinned slightly. “I noticed that you like wine very much. My parents still had it at home, and they said they didn't need it. We don't know any people here yet, so we don't need this."

He put the bottle in Heahmund's hands, careful not to touch Heahmund’s skin; but the eyes sparkled. Heahmund smiled broadly; he fixed his eyes on the bottle and hesitated for a moment.

"Wow, Ivar - that is a very expensive wine, I cannot accept it."

“We don't need it and you like wine. It's just standing around in our house.", Ivar answered slowly; he took a step towards the kitchen, and Heahmund had to smile a little despite his inner excitement. He pushed past Ivar into the kitchen and looked for two glasses; when he finally had them and was about to turn around, he let out a slight scream; Ivar stood right behind him, grinning at him.

"You, fuck... you are always extremely quiet, that easily upsets me. You like to do that, don't you? Scaring other people.” Heahmund muttered; he tried to calm his heart; it was strange, somehow, he had the feeling that Ivar could hear his heartbeat, because the fine ears had moved a little - almost as if they were listening. Heahmund glanced at the clock. _Funny that Ivar was in the kitchen now._

But maybe, maybe it was just a stupid coincidence. _He had to stop the ghost stories._

“I'm used to being quiet. My parents work at night, and that's why I have to be quiet during the day.”, Ivar replied boldly and sat down on one of the chairs; Heahmund had to admit that the picture of the pale Ivar on one of his kitchen chairs was a lovely one, especially since he noticed that Ivar's mind was so different from the days before. The bright eyes barely let go of him, and Heahmund grinned slightly as he opened the bottle of wine.

"You have a drink, right?"

Ivar put on a slight smile; the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and small, barely noticeable wrinkles formed in the corner of his mouth. "No."

"But you have to, so that it is not too embarrassing for me that you see me in this outfit.”, Heahmund snarled; he poured two glasses, and a slight tingling sensation ran through his neck when he saw Ivar looking at him up and down curiously.

“Your outfit looks good on you. A man is only a man when he looks good in sweatpants.” Ivar said softly; he had put his pale hands on the table and was watching Heahmund as he slowly brought the glasses to the table. He sat on the chair next to Ivar; they had enough distance, but Heahmund felt a slight shiver through his body. It was cool, like a light breeze. But something about the smell that floated towards him, fascinated him. It was very sweet and light, and Heahmund took a deep breath of it before turning to Ivar.

"Thanks for the inappropriate compliment," he said, and wanted to toast; Ivar hadn't taken his glass, however. He only looked at Heahmund with a slight smile and looked at the dark red liquid that was in the glass.

"I'm not drinking today."

"You have already refused twice."

"I know."

"Unnormal for your age."

For a moment Ivar apparently struggled with a laugh; his mouth twisted slightly, and yet he only smiled with his mouth closed while Heahmund took a sip of the wine. However, their eyes didn’t let go of each other.

“We went through a really interesting topic in class today. Dark creatures in Church History.”, Heahmund said after a brief moment of silence; he knew that he was putting a lot on the line, but when Ivar’s bright eyes fell on him like a predator, he returned the look.

Something happened inside him; it was like ice and fire at the same time.

"Is that so?" Ivar replied softly; he had leaned closer to Heahmund so they could look at each other much better. In the warm light of the kitchen, Ivar no longer looked quite so pale, even if he still looked a little sick.

Heahmund grinned a little; he never let go of his gaze for a second, even if something inside warned him to do so. Out of fear or temptation, that he wouldn’t molest the boy. Because something was tingling between them, clearly. And that despite the immense age difference.

"Yes. We went through demons, werewolves... and vampires. What do you think of these things?”, Heahmund said curiously; he took another sip of wine, while Ivar parted his lips slightly and gave what appeared to be a snort of amazement; his pale blue eyes were glued to Heahmund, and in spite of the cool blue, Heahmund could see fire. Burning, ice-cold fire of the night...

“I don't like these things. They are, as the saying goes, _invented_.”, Ivar whispered; his fingers were a little closer to Heahmund's arm, and Heahmund could not prevent a surge of heat rushing through his body. How much he wanted to just grab that damn arm, grab the boy, and finally, finally have some good sex again.

They looked at each other; Heahmund put on a challenging grin and leaned closer to the boy, while Ivar watched him closely. His soft lips opened a little more when Heahmund whispered softly: "Made up? Are you sure? I mean, God should also be true, why not these beings?"

Now it was Ivar who leaned a little closer to Heahmund; his eyes were now like sapphires, and Heahmund lost himself in them. The tension between them was unbearable. Heahmund even forgot why he had brought this subject up - all he saw were those bewitching, soft lips and those beautiful eyes.

“Because they are fairy tales, Heahmund. Blood-sucking vampires? No way. You drink too much.”, Ivar muttered; his eyes had deviated from Heahmund’s just a moment to point to the glass; but they were back at him in a flash.

Heahmund felt immense heat rising inside him, and he knew full well that he had better leave this behind. The boy was too young, too strange, and besides, he had just fallen for these scary stories too much today. _He had to stop now._

"I'm sure you're right," Heahmund said, slightly rough; he leaned back in his chair, albeit with a heavy heart, and took another sip of wine; Ivar was watching him closely.

Ivar smiled; he kept his thin fingers on the table while his glowing eyes literally gnawed Heahmund open. Heahmund had to use all his strength not to give in to the urge to just press the boy by the neck on the kitchen table and fuck him hard, because he _wanted_ to. He wanted so badly to have sex again, and this boy was forbiddingly, incredibly thrilling to him.

And that thought didn't even get a little better when Ivar leaned closer to him and Heahmund was misted in a cloud of sweet smell; those eyes made him weak.

“Besides, if vampires were real - don't you think someone would have loved to suck you up?”, Ivar uttered so bitingly and roughly that it shot Heahmund straight in the cock. He leaned forward in his chair again to drive the images out of his head, all these sexual images - _Ivar on his knees, Ivar sucking his cock, Ivar whimpering for more depth, for more hardness_ \- and breathed deep out.

And suddenly Ivar let out a deep, whispering laugh, and for a moment Heahmund saw his teeth flashing - it was too short, and yet he had seen quite sharp canine teeth - before Ivar suddenly stood up, pushed Heahmund's wine glass aside, and resting his hand on the table while his other hand was only millimeters away from Heahmund's face. It all happened so quickly that Heahmund was almost startled. But they were so close now that Heahmund could no longer think clearly. All his senses were clouded, and he only felt raw and hot lust shoot through his veins. _What was he doing here..._

Ivar leaned close to Heahmund, so close that their noses almost touched; he felt immense cold coming from Ivar, and yet he felt hotter than ever; he couldn't hide a swallow, and Ivar’s eyes fixed on his larynx for a brief moment before looking back at Heahmund.

A shock went through his body when he suddenly felt ice-cold fingers on his cheek; only light, as light as the dew in the morning, feather-light and barely noticeable, and yet clearly perceptible. Goosebumps shot Heahmund so hard over his body that he had to gasp slightly; Ivar’s mouth twitched when he felt Heahmund’s breath on his skin. The fingers brushed his beard briefly, then lingered on his cheek, and now it was Ivar who had to swallow. His gaze remained fixed on Heahmund, and Heahmund thought he was almost choking with emotions. Only what it all was, he couldn't even begin to accommodate. Unintentionally, fear also mingled with all the feelings of pleasure. Deep, rough fear.

“You remind me of someone I once knew a long time ago. Just not the eyes… They have lost some of their fighting spirit.” Ivar whispered these words so softly that Heahmund could barely understand them, and yet he could feel every syllable on his skin.

Pale fingers crawled over his chin and fixed it; the bright eyes filled with something Heahmund could not identify - but it seemed like a violent, troubled and long-buried feeling.

The freezing cold from Ivar made up for Heahmund’s heat inside, and so they stared at each other for another moment, before Heahmund couldn't take it any longer and turned slightly against the pressure of his fingers, leaning closer to Ivar. Their lips were so close to touch, so close that Heahmund could already literally smell the sweet taste - he wanted to bridge the last breaths, but with a violent exhalation and a jerky, unusually fast movement, Ivar tore himself away from Heahmund.

The boy gave a slight gasp, as did Heahmund; they both stared at each other, and then it was Ivar who averted his gaze.

"I have to go," he uttered and turned around so quickly towards the door that Heahmund almost couldn't follow - but shortly in front of the door, he caught up with the pale, thin boy and roughly grabbed his wrist. The coldness of the skin was terrifying, and Ivar seemed terrified as well - but Heahmund held him tight, even if the grip felt so weird and strange.

“I'm sorry, Ivar. I shouldn't have done this,” he uttered softly; Ivar’s eyes looked disturbed, and the fire in them from just a few moments ago was almost extinguished. The pale skin of the wrist that Heahmund still held so tightly stirred; with a soft movement, that made Ivar's smooth skin give Heahmund’s skin goose bumps, Ivar freed himself from his grip.

He looked at Heahmund, slightly shocked; then he let out a deep sigh. In the light of the hallway, he looked as pale and like a stone as ever.

“I shouldn't have touched you. That was wrong. We shouldn't be doing this anymore, I... I can't because... It's better that way. You’ve awakened ghosts in me from the past, Heahmund, which I had long forgotten." Ivar’s voice was so low and quiet that Heahmund had to bend a little closer to understand him. Then, with another movement, Ivar took a step back.

"It's okay," Heahmund said softly; his eyes were still on Ivar, and with a slightly uncertain movement Ivar disappeared through the door.

Heahmund stood in the hallway for a long time, with the door open, and stared after the boy - his blood was still boiling so hot in him that he was sure that with such a fire in his body, he would never be able to sleep.

And something else throbbed in the depths of his body, screaming for answers - for he had noticed that Ivar had gone into the kitchen without the crucifix on the wall.

A heavy shiver ran down his spine as he thought of the pictures in the book and the words of his students today.

_You can actually see them very easily, because they are very pale and always seem so rigid. Like a wax figure! Their bodies are freezing cold, because they are dead._

But could dead people cause such a fire in one? Heahmund wasn't so sure about it.


	4. Things only the moon has seen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I have to thank you guys, wow! *.* I didn't expect so much feedback, and it just got me so motivated that I continued this story first today. :) I hope you enjoy the new chapter! And many, many thanks from all my heart for your comments and kudos, they mean so much to me! <3 Have a peaceful sunday!

* * *

There were nights when Heahmund slept quietly as a stone; embedded in inner calm, and when he woke up the next morning, he was well rested and fit.

And then there were nights like this.

In which he tossed himself from side to side, his head full of thoughts about everything that had happened - and he found no rest. Even the quiet ticking of the clock, which usually made him sleepy after a while, didn't help here either. His thoughts were as hard at work as a train that had to pull dozens and another dozens of wagons - and this mental train kept circling one particular place. And yet so slowly came the serious fear that he might go nuts or began to doubt his faith.

_Was it possible that Ivar was a vampire?_

He knew it was actually impossible. They were mythical creatures that humans might have believed in thousands of years ago; not real beings, just ghosts to scare children so they don't sneak around at night. Because purely physically the existence of these beings was impossible. The dead could not live, and certainly not for hundreds of years; how could biology ever create such a creature while people lived and died like the normal circle of life? The laws of nature forbade such a creation, and he had never read about vampires or werewolves or witches in a scientific book.

And yet, with every experience and reading in the Church's ancient history books, Heahmund's terrible suspicion seemed more and more logical, for it was based on things he had personally experienced: Ivar or his family never seemed to be outside during the day. Neither of the other neighbors had ever seen the family in the light of day, and the house's blinds were always tightly closed during the day.

Ivar was unnaturally pale and looked extremely sickly, even when he was in a good mood - Heahmund didn't think the boy had a fatal disease because he might have noticed. Ivar never seemed to blink, and he had never eaten or drunk anything in Heahmund’s presence. He looked cool and distant, the eyes focused - and extremely timeless.

Something about the boy was undeniably _strange_. He seemed to be unnaturally fast in his movements, and Heahmund suddenly remembered the many little things that suggested a resemblance to a vampire. The way the boy had wrinkled his nose when he had smelled the wine. The way he'd accepted the glass - his ears that had clearly registered a heartbeat, as if they were so much better than Heahmund's. The constant pinched smile so as not to show any teeth.

Heahmund's body got goose bumps when he thought of Ivar's pretty, cold-looking face; however, with all these points, it seemed to turn into the image of a monster.

And now Heahmund asked himself the most elementary question: What did vampires eat? Blood, blood of people. But if so, why hadn't the boy attacked him? Heahmund had done everything wrong that he could have done wrong in the presence of a vampire: crosses on the wall, and he had invited him into his house. But the crucifix and the invitation were again at the expense of the vampire side.

With a soft sigh, Heahmund ran his hand over his face and snorted: he came to no logical conclusion. His heart told him, more than clearly, that Ivar was a vampire. An ancient creature from a bygone era, and that would explain the persistent hints of the past that Ivar had strangely uttered suddenly that evening. It would explain so much.

And yet his head told him that reality and nature clearly forbade such a being to exist. And that Ivar was just a _freak_. Besides, Heahmund thought, there were diseases like moonlight sickness that made normal people to children of the night. Eternally bound to avoid the sun. But if it was like this, then why didn't Ivar have more scars?

When he tossed himself around for the twentieth time and came still to no conclusion, Heahmund decided to get up and go out for a walk. Since it was weekend and tomorrow was Saturday, he didn't have much plans anyway except for church tomorrow. And he couldn't sleep anyway, a little fresh night air would be good. So, he got up, put on black jeans and a gray hoodie, pulled his black jacket over it and took the key to the house from the sideboard, before going out into the night with a low sigh.

His way led him into the adjacent city park, which was only a few streets away. Nobody was here at night; it was calm and peaceful, and only the rustling of animals in the bushes and on the grass could be heard. Now and then a raven crowed, and yet Heahmund felt that the fresh, cool air did him extremely well and cooled his head a little. He pulled the collar of his jacket higher before following the dirt path through the park.

He must have walked for half an hour without meeting any soul; only when he found a wooden park bench under a large weeping willow that stood in front of a small lake, did he decide to take a break. With a low groan he sat down on the bench and leaned his back against the cool boards. It was wonderfully quiet here; the moon was reflected in the soft shimmer of the lake, and it was bright enough to see a couple of ducks sleeping at the edge of the water.

The surroundings did not have any sounds ready; but after a few minutes of relaxed silence, in which Heahmund's eyes almost closed tiredly, one could suddenly hear footsteps on the crunching pebble stone path.

Heahmund raised his eyebrows and turned around with his torso; he was extremely astonished and had to snort slightly when he saw that it was Ivar. The boy had put on a slightly crooked smile and was wearing a jacket as black as Heahmund's. He was hardly noticeable in the dark, only his bright, light face was perfectly highlighted by the moonlight.

“For once you don't sneak up like a lion trying to attack its prey.”, Heahmund uttered and turned his head back to the lake; his mind had circled enough. He didn't want to think about all these things anymore.

This place was far too beautiful and quiet at night for that.

“I thought I didn't mean to scare you for once. It would be a bit mean at night in the park, don't you think?”, Ivar said in a slightly hoarse voice; and although his steps were still relatively quiet, Heahmund could hear this time how Ivar came closer and closer to him.

Heahmund closed his eyes for a moment.

_It was a point for the vampire side. Predators crept without making any noise._

From the emerging, sweet smell, Heahmund sensed that Ivar had carefully sat down on the bench next to him. At first, they didn't say a word; Heahmund opened his eyes again after a while and stared at the nightly beauty of the lake without paying attention to Ivar, who had clearly turned his head in Heahmund’s direction and was looking at the bishop with his typical rigidity.

For a while they were silent; further away a beaver appeared and splashed through the water.

"I've been thinking about what you told me in your kitchen today, Heahmund.", Ivar said quietly after a while; Heahmund saw from the corner of his eyes how Ivar began to play with the sleeves of his jacket, almost as if he were a little unsure about how to start this conversation. And it was just then, when Heahmund finally turned his head into the boy's direction. Ivar's eyes were on his fingers; strange, otherwise the boy was never too embarrassed to stare at him like a rock. But today something was quarreling in him. Heahmund could feel it.

"About what exactly?", Heahmund asked quietly, turning his torso slightly into Ivar’s direction; the boy lifted his unnaturally bright eyes, looked at Heahmund. There was uncertainty in the timeless blue, and Heahmund tried hard to avoid his rapid palpitation. If this continued like this, he would attack the boy, because this feeling of irrepressible lust did not subside.

"Well, about what you - er - you said about this thing there.", Ivar’s words seemed more uncertain than usual, and Heahmund raised an eyebrow.

"About what thing?"

"The... you know."

Heahmund put on a slight smile and was amused when he saw that Ivar’s eyebrows twitched slightly, as if the boy was growing impatient.

"No."

"You know exactly what I mean!", Ivar hissed slightly, and his forehead wrinkled a little bit. Heahmund gave a small laugh and Ivar rolled his eyes.

“You're very impatient today, aren't you? I know what you mean. Why do you say that?”, Heahmund asked. He leaned his back a little closer to the bench, but his eyes stayed on the boy's eyes.

And Heahmund would have denied it if he had he not seen it with his own eyes; but a slight, barely noticeable trace of pink crept onto Ivar’s high cheekbones and gave the otherwise dead-looking face a little warmth for the first time.

“I think you have... I don't know. The things you said are...- I didn't know the Church was discussing them nowadays. I mean - it's - it's not like I care, but you... talked like you... believe in it, kind of." Ivar was obviously having a hard time talking about these things; Heahmund saw it very closely. The boy was still playing lightly with the sleeves of his jacket and suddenly seemed almost shy, where there was always a lot of strength to be seen.

Heahmund thought about this for a moment; he wasn't sure how to answer that. If he looked at it right, he and Ivar hardly knew each other, they were just neighbors. They were way too far apart in age - Heahmund was approaching 40, while Ivar was under 20. If he hadn't lied about his age, in one way or another... But something was between them. A certain attraction, but in what way, Heahmund didn't know yet.

After a while Heahmund cleared his throat slightly and rested his forearms on his thighs; he saw how Ivar eyed him curiously, how the bright blue eyes were fixed on Heahmund’s face with great curiosity. The boy's lips were slightly parted, very lightly; the full lower lip looked so charming in the moonlight.

“You know, Ivar… there are a lot of things in this world that cannot be explained. I am a man of God and yet there is no evidence of God. Just because something appears like a fairy tale doesn't mean people can't believe in it. Faith can be strong and not everything can always be explained logically. Like love. How do you declare love? Actually, we are only there to reproduce, and yet something in us is apparently looking for with whom we want to unite... And that is not measurable, just as little measurable as God. I can't explain it to you.“, Heahmund replied softly; he had fixed his eyes on Ivar, and even as he spoke he had seen the boy's gaze changed.

The blue had grown much warmer in a strange way, and there was a hint of disbelief in it; he even thought that he had seen the corners of Ivar's mouth rise slightly, as if they wanted to smile. But it had only been tiny, tiny seconds. Hardly noticeable.

Ivar looked petrified for a moment; only then did he lean back slightly on the bench and let his neck slide onto the back of the bench so that he could see into the crown of the weeping willow. There was a slight gust of wind, and Heahmund leaned back in the bench as well. He moved a little closer to Ivar, barely noticeable, and yet he felt the boy stiffen. But he stayed in his position.

"How did you find me, Ivar?" Heahmund said almost roughly; he could see Ivar closing his bright eyes for a moment, and for a brief moment a slight smile slipped into the corners of his mouth.

"You are very attentive, Bishop.", Ivar whispered, and Heahmund leaned closer to him.

Pale blue eyes looked at him again, and the soft coolness of the sweet smell seemed to take Heahmund over completely; he was now sure that this was not a perfume, but seemed to come from Ivar’s pale, perfect skin.

"I think everyone will notice it when they suddenly have a second shadow," Heahmund replied darkly. His face was not far away from Ivar’s, he looked down at the boy, who was still resting his neck on the back of the bench, with his head tilted slightly. Ivar’s eyes widened a little; and then, with a very soft movement, the lips parted a little, and ice-cold fingers brushed the skin on Heahmund’s cheek.

“It's your smell. And somehow, I don't know, I'm drawn to you. I told you that you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago."

Ivar spoke the words so softly that they hit Heahmund like a breath of air, but his body reacted with burning goose bumps. Heahmund had to swallow; he felt the inner heat rising inside him, boiling in his veins. Every cell seemed to warm up, seemed to catch fire under the gaze of the ice-cold eyes.

"When you say a long time ago, Ivar - you're talking like you're over 19. And I don't think that friend of yours was a kindergarten friend, do you?", Heahmund mumbled; his gaze slid down briefly to Ivar’s neck, which stretched out towards him as if perfectly; the skin looked so flawless and soft, and Heahmund had to struggle hard not to sink his mouth and teeth into that skin. But something crackled between them and it was for sure not enmity.

Ivar did not answer; the boy closed his eyes again and for the first time, for the first time since Heahmund had seen him, he smiled. His full lips revealed a row of perfectly brilliant white teeth, and as Heahmund had already suspected, there were two very pointed canines next to the front teeth, which seemed to gleam slightly in the moonlight.

It was a very strange feeling to see this. It shot Heahmund deeply through his marrow and bone and gave his body a certain panic, and his head seemed to scream: _Run. Just run away._

But his heart forced him to stay, filling his legs with lead so that he could not move. The heat increased immensely, and Heahmund had to resist the terrible urge to grab the boy's face with both hands and kiss him.

It was this intense inner conflict that forced Heahmund to fix his gaze on the boy's face again; he still had his eyes closed, but he was still smiling. And somehow this sight was damn beautiful. It seemed almost erotic how this fantastically slim neck stretched out towards him, paired with the sharp teeth, which could certainly cause a lot of pain...

Again, a big lump in his throat forced Heahmund to swallow; he remained in his position until Ivar’s eyes opened again and looked for Heahmund’s eyes. Their eyes met, and for one single moment all Heahmund felt was the intense gaze of those bright eyes, that seemed to burn him out completely inside. He even had no longer felt the freezing cold that still emanated from Ivar’s fingers, which were still lingering on his cheek.

And then, although all the nerves and thoughts in Heahmund screamed to just _run away_ , his heartbeat rose so violently that it hurt - the blood in Heahmund's ears rushed like a waterfall - Heahmund leaned over Ivar's face with a flowing movement, shoved a hand on Ivar's cheek with the scar, and kissed him.

The kiss was like a firework of emotions; he couldn't describe how it felt. His immense heat seemed to patter on Ivar’s icy cold like a beautiful summer rain. It was a soft, barely noticeable kiss; Ivar’s full lips tasted incredibly sweet and were as smooth as silk.

Heahmund forced himself to stop after that first kiss; he had an infinitely hard throb in his veins, and he felt slightly dizzy.

Ivar opened his eyes; his lips were half parted, and the pointy canines were clearly visible. But what was in his eyes, what was in the look that Ivar gave him, Heahmund could see so much more than all the ghosts that had hitherto haunted his head; because there was a soul behind it.

The bright blue of Ivar’s eyes looked shocked and infinitely warm and soft at the same time; his body was no longer as stiff as it was at the beginning, Heahmund could feel it clearly now that they were so close. Heahmund was about to slide back a little, to make some room for the boy, when an ice-cold hand grabbed his neck and pulled him into a second, far more brash kiss.

Heahmund’s hand on Ivar’s cheek twitched slightly; he had never been kissed so passionately and above all so well. It was like an ordeal, like blind obedience, with which Heahmund’s lust followed Ivar’s lips; their lips met breathlessly and tightly several times until they deepened their kisses with one flowing movement. Ivar’s ice-cold lips and Heahmund’s heated ones were the perfect contrast to each other; and when Ivar pushed his tongue lightly into Heahmund’s mouth, Heahmund felt a violent, exciting shock in his limbs. His hand on Ivar’s cheek tightened the grip; his thumb brushed over the fine elevation of the scar, and with a fluid, breathless movement and a soft gasp, he pressed closer to Ivar.

Ivar’s hand had clung so tightly to Heahmund’s neck that the skin there felt almost slightly cool; something hard emanated from the fine, slender fingers, the grip almost felt like a search for support.

When the hand on the back of his neck began to shake slightly, Heahmund shot pure lust through his veins. He hadn't felt lust for so long, not in this rough, harsh way - he wanted this boy so badly. His other hand pressed against Ivar’s neck, his thumb ran beguilingly over the fine tendon on the neck, and Ivar broke the kiss briefly to let out a soft, barely audible moan. Heahmund’s inner fire was too greedy, too much out of control; he didn't give Ivar a break, and with one firm movement he pressed his open mouth on Ivar’s again.

The boy clawed on him even tighter, and Heahmund almost twitched when he felt one of Ivar’s canines gently slide against his lower lip. The tooth was so sharp that it almost felt like a soft scratch, but it filled Heahmund with lust so hot that he deepened the kiss immediately. He wanted more of that soft, interesting, _strange pain_ , and the thought of it gave him almost a perverse pleasure...

Bare nails ran over Heahmund’s skin on the back of his neck, and the pointy tooth scratched Heahmund’s lower lip again, triggering so much pleasure - until Ivar suddenly pushed his head back slightly and interrupted the kiss. The boy had a deep pink on his cheeks that was light but still visible; he looked like he was infinitely exhausted and struggling with a violent urge on the inside, cause his upper body rose and fell hard.

"Heahmund, we have to stop," he gasped; Heahmund’s hand pressed firmly against the boy's cheek, pressed on the fine scar again with his thumb; Heahmund watched with a surge of pleasure that this movement opened Ivar’s lips and elicited another, soft moan; the sharp teeth showed, but Ivar’s burning stare quickly found Heahmund’s eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you, we have to stop now.", Ivar whimpered again; their bodies were still pressed tightly together, and Heahmund’s heart was still beating like a hammer against his chest. They looked at each other; there was so much lust in their eyes, so much fire, and yet Heahmund tried to keep his burning lust in check. Ivar was right; they were already gone too far anyway. Ivar was far too young for him.

With a soft exhale, Heahmund lifted his face slightly so that Ivar had more room to breathe; his thoughts were still clouded. The sweet taste and smell had dissolved a seldom felt, violent pleasure from which it was difficult to get rid of.

"Maybe I like pain," Heahmund said slowly, and he pulled away from Ivar so that Ivar could sit up properly again. The boy's eyes were full of fire, but Heahmund could tell from his body that he was struggling hard. And with a sudden goosebump he remembered why Ivar might be resisting this lust so hard...

Ivar put on a cheeky grin; his face looked amused, even if he stretched his body a little, as if slightly exhausted. “You are impossible, really. I have to go home anyway, otherwise I'll get in trouble. Will you come with me?”, Ivar answered with a slight smile, and Heahmund nodded. Together they got up from the bench and slowly made their way back.

A strange but not oppressive silence spread between them; Heahmund couldn't describe it properly. There was, of course, something big and unspoken between them, a truth and a lie at the same time; and Heahmund did not know how to address this matter. Because actually Ivar had already explained everything to him in his very own way, completely without words. He had spoken without speaking. Even if Heahmund’s head and thoughts have apparently not yet been able to process this tremendous shock. He wouldn't be able to sleep for a week now.

“When you say you'll get into trouble, it sounds very unrealistic to me after this evening. I mean - trouble for what?”, Heahmund asked after a while; they walked slowly down the gravel path, and from time to time, Ivar's body bumped very lightly against Heahmund's.

Ivar smiled gently, and although he did not look at Heahmund when he replied, Heahmund could recognize the light pink that crept onto the otherwise hollow cheeks.

“Being outside too long, with a -… meeting with the bishop. That's - they don't particularly like it. Father says I’m making a mistake. But I can't help it."

Heahmund nodded slightly; he had a thousand questions on his mind, and yet his head seemed so empty at the same time. What a strange, _strange_ night, and what a strange development between them. How should he deal with it?

“Oh, that's how it is. So, it's not the alcohol, it's the fact that it's someone from the church. In principle.", Heahmund mumbled, and Ivar’s bright eyes fixed on him with a deep snarl; the boy hissed in amusement, and then he laughed lightly.

"You haven't lost your sense of humor," Ivar said, and then paused slightly.

Heahmund said nothing about it; he wasn't sure how to handle it, so he just let the boy talk. With a lot of luck, he would still have enough time to ask his questions, and first and foremost he didn't want to ruin what he had built up today.

He felt only very slightly guilty that his body craved extremely hard inside for the boy and would have loved to fuck him right there on the park bench. Actually, the picture in his head was pretty, a half-naked Ivar groaning on his lap as he rode his cock. And then those sharp teeth in the moonlight...

When his heartbeat rose rapidly again, Heahmund forced himself to keep his perverted thoughts in check. He had to stop thinking that way; but the boy had unleashed an incredibly raw lust in him, and that was not just because of his sex withdrawal.

When they got to their houses, they stopped for a moment. The yellowish light from the streetlamps was nowhere near as beautiful as the moonlight, and Heahmund lacked in an almost painful way the gentle sound of nature in his ears. With a slow movement he turned to Ivar, and was almost startled when the light blue eyes looked so painful, in a way.

"It's not your fault, I'm a little confused today," Ivar said quietly; it almost looked as if his eyes were filling with tears, but when Heahmund looked closer at the bright blue, the eyes only looked that way but were not really filling up. Ivar smiled softly; he took a step back, almost with the same rigidity as he usually did; his fingers unconsciously fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket again, and somehow - if Heahmund included the terribly creepy calculation - this gesture seemed almost more human than anything else.

“It's okay, Ivar. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Should your parents ever show up at church, and I don't think that will happen.”, Heahmund said softly, his heart feeling strangely warm when Ivar let out a soft, gentle laugh that let him have one last look at those pretty, sharp teeth.

Ivar stroked his black hair briefly, then took another step back. “Thank you, Heahmund. Sleep well."

"You too, Ivar."

Ivar took two more steps with his face turned towards Heahmund, only then did he turn around and walked into the direction of the beautiful house, which wasn't really much lit at night.

Heahmund took a deep breath and walked towards his own house; when he glanced at his silver watch on his wrist, it read 4 o'clock. So, it would be dawn soon.

But when Heahmund closed his front door behind him, he didn't get far - because the knowledge he had just gained and the rushing force of all things experienced and ascertained literally tore the floor away from under his feet, and he landed with his face on the floor. His thoughts and his complete mind went black.

* * *


	5. The sharpness of teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are again. :) I hope you didn't have to wait too long, and of course I hope you enjoy the new chapter! Have a wonderful evening! <3 Or as we say in german, Bergfest. :D

* * *

_A distant, heavy clang of chains ripped Heahmund out of his trance; for a moment he didn't know where he was. Judging by his body feeling, he was on a hard stone floor, because his right side ached terribly - the tired bones hurt infinitely under the pressure of his own body._

_He raised his head cautiously. It was bitter black night, and with a slight moan on his lips he noticed that he did not seem to be here voluntarily, because a thick chain around his neck held him in place. This thick iron chain was connected to a light-colored column that appeared to be not made of marble, but of another precious stone. The stone floor also felt similar. Even though it was smooth, Heahmund was not comfortable at all._

_A strange shiver ran down his spine. The constant cold and ignorance of the place gave him a vague, subliminal fear, and the fact that he seemed to have completely lost his memory made it all less pleasant._

_When he lifted his head slightly again, a flash of lightning suddenly lit the hall in which he was. He could see the bright, old outlines of crosses, an altar - but something was wrong here. Because within those few seconds in which the lightning had illuminated the room, Heahmund could also guess the structures of human bodies - and he was almost grateful that the lightning plunged the room into darkness again as quickly as it had been illuminated. Because what he had seen - it could only have been corpses._

_He let out a sharp gasp and tried to push himself up a little with his less sore shoulder. Something was definitely wrong here. Where was he? And why was he chained?_

_When another, vague shiver was sent down his spine and pulled back so hard that his hair in his neck stood up slightly, Heahmund suddenly knew that he couldn't be alone. And it was definitely not the eyes of the countless dead that stared at him in this large room..._

_His eyes scanned the area hectically, trying with a slight squint to see something in the darkness - but he saw nothing. Nothing but the haunting and oppressive blackness of the night._

_Thunder rang out not far from where he was lying, and a light, sweet smell suddenly penetrated Heahmund’s nostrils so urgently that it almost burned. It wasn't a bad smell; it smelled like warm skin, paired with a sweetish incense scent, and Heahmund could clearly taste this scent on his tongue. However, that strange feeling of vague fear stirred again in him, and it became more violent with every blink of the eyes that he made in the dark._

_When another flash of lightning suddenly filled the room with piercing brightness, Heahmund was so frightened that the cold and rusty chain around his neck tightened and his body reared up off the floor as if by itself._

_Because with the white flash, an angry face lit up out of nowhere, which was baring teeth and which was directly in front of his body with a terribly dark grin - it was a young man with plaited, dark hair who supported himself on both arms, a long tongue sticking out of his mouth. And Heahmund knew: he was staring into the face of the devil._

* * *

He was almost choking on his own spit when he woke up with a terrible headache on the carpet in his hallway; the pain throbbed violently in his skull, and with a soft groan Heahmund rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling.

Excellent, so it finally had come to _that_ point with him. He had just passed out on the carpet after a nocturnal walk with a vampire and only woke up, when the first rays of sun fell through the frosted glass next to the front door. For a moment he looked at the reddish shimmering light that broke at the window and threw beautiful patterns on the ceiling; with a slight bite on his lower lip, he wondered if Ivar had ever seen a sunrise, or if he remembered one at all.

A strange feeling ran through his veins when he thought about last night. What images he had seen was clearly too much for his brain. Now, he almost felt insane that he had kissed Ivar - with a light bite on his own lower lip Heahmund looked for slight traces of the pointed tooth, but none could be found - and even stranger: how apparently relaxed he himself was handling with that fact. How was such a thing even possible? Or did vampires use human weakness according to lust and desire to quench their thirst when their victims trusted them?

There was so much Heahmund wanted to know - but what should he do? Just go over to Ivar and ask him? That struck him as a little strange, especially since the boy had somehow avoided this subject. The word _vampire_ had never crossed his lips - and otherwise it didn't seem easy for the boy to speak openly about who he really was.

But was it all real? Heahmund just couldn't imagine that it should and could be true. After all, there were no records of such beings nowadays, or was this knowledge simply lost, as in the ancient church books? Nevertheless, despite all these terrible and circling thoughts Heahmund could not hide a slight goose bump that shot over his skin like a shiver, when he thought of the incredibly beautiful kiss and the intense pleasure these kisses had triggered in him. It had been like an addiction, those cool lips and the scratching of teeth on his skin.

And what had happened with that strange dream? Somehow - and he still had the face of the lightened grimace in his head - that face had looked like Ivar's, only much dirtier and somehow more alive. And from a completely different time.

When Heahmund propped himself up on his elbows with a sigh, he came to the conclusion that he must had bumped his head too hard when he had hit the floor yesterday - because the stupid things he was figuring out right now - or rather had dreamed - made no sense at all.

The clock in the hall showed half past eight, and Heahmund had to hurry to avoid being late; because in half an hour he had lessons. When he quickly went to the bathroom again, extremely reluctantly to brush his teeth (he didn't really want to wash away the taste and memory of yesterday), an extremely tired man stared at him in the mirror, who was slowly getting a three-day beard himself, and even _he_ thought it became too wild. But he didn't have time for shaving and stuff, so he just grabbed his toothbrush and stared out the window at the neighbors' house while brushing.

And it hardly surprised him anymore that the shutters were all closed and pulled down.

It was going to be a glorious autumn day today, so apparently bad weather for pale, pointed-toothed boys who drove a much older man crazy.

* * *

"And here we see the ancient relic of Benedict X.", grumbled the ancient voice of a high priest; Heahmund, who had put his jacket on backwards twice this morning, had completely forgotten that they were taking the class on a trip to the neighboring village today to visit an old church. He had just stared at his class, which had been waiting for him outside - and which had laughed slightly when they reminded Heahmund of the excursion.

During the bus ride, Heahmund had tried not to fall asleep - he had simply been too tired after the night before. But if it hadn't happened in the bus, then it was guaranteed to happen here - because the priest's droning, old-fashioned voice took Heahmund's last nerve today. He always tried to remember the commandment of Christian kindness and friendliness, but after a while it was difficult for him to smile. Sometimes he understood why people went to church less - when it came to bearded old guys like _this_ priest, who had a voice to fall asleep to and looked like a dusty broom from the sacristy himself.

The group followed the ancient man on and on. The church was large and had an impressive collection of ancient graves and relics - Heahmund got goosebumps with every coffin, because he simply imagined with every stony coffin how Ivar was sleeping in it, as deep as the dead. Was that a cliché? Where the hell should he take all of these answers from if he didn't want to pester Ivar impatiently?

On a particularly thick and stony sarcophagus, Heahmund's thoughts really got going - _he imagined what it would be like to fuck Ivar on a coffin like this, while Ivar bit his neck and then they kissed, smeared with blood_ , when suddenly the emerging, soft voice of Justin appeared next to him.

"Bishop Heahmund?" he asked softly, and Heahmund winced so violently that even Justin was a bit startled; he nodded to the boy and looked around again beforehand. But no one had noticed his little outburst, except Justin.

"Sorry, Justin. I slept really badly that night. What’s wrong?"

Justin bit his lip and looked around; only when no other classmates were around, did Justin’s eyes return to him.

“I'm a little embarrassed to ask you about it. But I can't help it. You know that my father works for the criminal investigation department, don't you?"

Heahmund nodded silently; he felt a little dizzy in his legs, but he didn't show it and leaned lightly against one of the cool stone walls.

The cold was infinitely good, and for a moment he let out a deep breath.

“I didn't want to talk to my father about it because he thinks it's all nonsense, I mean, you know him. He doesn't even go to church.", Justin said; the boy looked a little nervous, and Heahmund smiled lightly to at least give the impression that he was sincerely and mentally fully present - even if he was still fucking the bloodied Ivar in the back of his head.

"Yes, I know that. But that's not that bad, Justin."

"I know. Well, last night... he came back from a case and it was... I can't really describe it. He described the case, and I - I couldn't help thinking about the class we had before. You know, the lessons with the - primeval beings... and the vampires."

Heahmund's heart almost stopped at the word "vampire" - his eyes focused on Justin so suddenly that Justin was almost startled again.

"Vampires... what do you mean?" he asked; he also looked around briefly, and then took Justin a little more aside. His heart pounded up to his throat, even if he couldn't fully explain the sudden excitement.

"Yes... well-", Justin stopped shortly and bit his lower lip nervously - his eyes fixed on the floor, even if Heahmund continued to look at him. “I feel so silly, Bishop, but it reminded me of vampires. My father had told my mother that they pulled a dead man out of the river not far from our city limits - and he was almost completely bloodless. And he had - there were bites on his neck. My father firmly believes that this is a murderer's joke - but how can that be? I mean... Bishop, please don't think I'm crazy, but... You said yourself that you can neither prove nor disprove. And since last night I have been wondering what to believe?"

While these words were still being said, Heahmund’s body condition had changed from an excited tingling sensation to a violent, excruciating throbbing. His heart was beating so hard it hurt now; and the nausea in him increased even more.

It took him a moment to even find words. It was almost a nightmare that just one night after his event with Ivar, young Justin turned to him and told him this hair-raising story. But he knew it was true - because Justin looked slightly disturbed. But how should he answer this? He had seen with his own eyes and felt what the hell was going on in this village since the Lothbroks had moved in. But it could all just be a coincidence.

"Maybe, um... maybe it's just a stupid coincidence, Justin. I mean, sure that sounds a little…” _\- yes, what did he say now? Strange? That sounds damn much like the boy I really want to seduce? Whose sharp teeth I felt on my lower lip yesterday?_ \- "... that sounds a little creepy, yes. But I would first wait to see what the forensic medicine results are before you get such a spook on your head. Because it sounds like an animal might have done that, too. Or there are certain types of snakes that - um..."

“There are no snakes here in this area, sir. I already googled it."

"Well, Google might not be my first choice," Heahmund replied; he tried to look like it was the most normal thing in the world to scratch the back of his head a little clumsily; inside, however, his thoughts raced. How the hell did he explain something like that now?

Justin kept staring at him, and Heahmund tried to look as calm as possible. He was perfectly aware that he did not quite succeed; but he had no choice.

"You know, Justin... I'm going to take a look at this and read a little. OK? And you, please don't tell anyone. It does not throw a good light on the Church when people hear or read such things,” Heahmund said in a slightly hushed voice; the lightly pale Justin nodded slightly and swallowed.

“Thank you for not laughing at me. It means a lot to me because I felt so crazy. Above all, it was the first thought that came into my head."

“It’s all good, don't worry. I am very sure that there is a perfectly logical explanation for this. I will keep you up to date."

With these words Justin turned away and went back to the others, while Heahmund turned to the sarcophagus and looked at it with a low sigh.

The hall grew quieter where the group had slowly retreated, while Heahmund lingered in the dull silence and fixed his gaze like a robber on the sarcophagus, his arms crossed on a barrier and his chin resting on it thoughtfully.

_A perfectly logical explanation for these things._

Of course, there was one - only that this explanation was definitely not what people wanted to hear and know. Heahmund wasn't even sure _he_ wanted to know certain things. Even if curiosity ate him so much that he couldn't think of anything else.

* * *

He was so exhausted when he took off his jacket in the evening and just left it carelessly in the hallway, that he couldn't even get something to eat - with a soft sigh he only wanted to close his eyes for five minutes and lay down on the sofa.

He didn't know how deeply he must have slept - but he woke up extremely confused when he noticed a slight, barely noticeable breeze on his cheek. Since he was still sleepy, his eyes almost closed and he almost fell into a deep sleep again - when he suddenly saw a dark figure creeping in front of his field of vision.

With a panicked gasp he straightened up all of a sudden, and uttered a startled "DAMN IT, IVAR!", when he saw that it was the cheerfully grinning, pale boy who now with a slight movement and a terribly pretty smile sat down next to him on the couch. Bright eyes stared at him gleefully, and Heahmund was still a little frightened to see the boy grinning since last night. There was something creepy about seeing those pointy canines, even if they weren't quite as exaggerated as one knew it from the horror films.

"Please excuse me. I thought I would like give you a little scare.", Ivar replied cheerfully and leaned back slightly on the sofa. Today he didn't seem quite as rigid and pale as usual, even if his skin color was still unnaturally light, and Heahmund still got slight goose bumps - an instinct, he couldn't explain it any other way.

Heahmund just snorted and sat down sensibly. He let the back of his head slide against the backrest with a soft exhale and stared at the TV for a moment, which was still on - when he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Ivar was staring at him all the time.

"How did you get in here anyway?" Heahmund asked gloomily; he put a nonetheless soft smile in the corner of his mouth as he turned with a weary movement into Ivar’s direction. The boy smiled gently; his cheeks took on a barely visible, gossamer mark of pink before he said softly, “Well, I thought - I wasn't sure if you were okay, I just came through the upper window. You always leave it a crack open, you know? This makes it really easy if you really want to get in."

"I always thought-" Heahmund began and paused; he wasn't sure how to address this issue, having noticed Ivar’s uncertainty yesterday. Nevertheless, he bit his lip briefly, returned Ivar’s very haunted look today and nodded softly. "I always thought vampires couldn't go into a house if you didn't invite them."

For a moment, Ivar’s lips parted very softly and gently, and he let out a slight snort. It looked amused; Heahmund could see small lines of a smile at the corners of his mouth. The bright eyes looked just as amused, and Ivar licked his lips briefly before he said, "Don’t tell me that you believe something like this. How should we hunt then, hm? Do you think I ask people like, oh sir, I just want to steal the blood from your veins, would you let me in please?"

Heahmund closed his mouth and let out a small laugh - he felt a bit stupid, really, now that Ivar was so plainly saying it. It was a strange feeling that Ivar looked so different today than on the other nights. Just for a brief moment he thought of what Justin had told him in church today - for a moment he was painfully aware again with whom, or rather with _what_ he was sitting here with and cheerfully exchanging jokes as if it was nothing more than a nice meeting among friends.

Ivar seemed to notice the internal tension in Heahmund, for he bit his full, slightly pink lower lip with his canine; for a moment the bright eyes stayed on Heahmund, then the boy sighed deeply.

“It's not easy for me to talk to someone about it. You seemed so different, so I figured it wouldn't be a problem. I know that this is not easy for you - but you should know that I will not harm you. I have extra…” Ivar stopped; his body hardened a little, and his gaze easily avoided Heahmund’s. Heahmund leaned his head a little deeper into the soft fabric of the sofa and looked curiously at the boy. It took Ivar a moment to find his way back to his thoughts and words.

“I always have a few extra precautions, so that I don't lose control. Do you remember our first evening at the fence?"

Heahmund smiled slightly; he had still fixed his gaze on Ivar, who now returned it softly; even if the boy's body was still a bit rigid and stony. But Heahmund had got used to it by now.

"Yes of course. You gave me the absolute horror back then."

"Hmm, unwanted.", Ivar smiled softly and leaned back as well; Heahmund’s bright eyes found Heahmund’s with an ease that reminded Heahmund of the gentle breeze from before. For a long time, he had resisted inhaling the scent of Ivar - but now he took a deep breath of it and let this wonderful scent in combination with the beautiful eyes take its effect.

“It was your smell back then. Father always told me to stay away from the neighbors. And yet I noticed it immediately. And then, when I saw you in the light of the lantern, there... everything was somehow different. I haven't had that feeling in me for a long time.", Ivar added with a smile. His torso twisted slightly in Heahmund's direction, and he pulled his legs up to his body a little.

It took Heahmund a moment to process all the impressions that were pouring down on him. There wasn't just the fact that he was sitting here so loosely with Ivar talking about the unspeakable between them, there was so much more. It was the eyes that looked so good and known in a strange way, it was the smell that was so strange and yet so familiar - it was just an attraction that he could hardly break away from. He had been thinking about Ivar all day, and although pure fear had run down his veins when he had heard Justin’s story, he didn’t have the feeling that it was anything bad. That was nature, that was the world! He couldn't deny that his body was still resisting Ivar’s presence a little and his legs tried to force him to run away - but this, this here was something Heahmund hadn't felt in a long time.

"The same thing happened to me. I can't explain, I'm sorry, Ivar. My body says _run away_ , but my insides, they’re just shocked by the bloody unpleasant habit of you showing up everywhere without making any noise and giving me a heart attack."

And Ivar actually had to laugh at Heahmund’s sentence; the white, perfect teeth didn't even begin to look threatening in the warm light of the cozy lamp, and his eyes told him that whatever Ivar was - that there wasn't a monster in this room at the moment. With a gentle movement Heahmund leaned closer to the boy, who raised an eyebrow almost in delight.

Heahmund didn't know exactly what it was that drove him out of all caution and inner cleverness - it was probably the fact that he hadn't had sex in ages and that his male hormones were just getting off the ground. He couldn't help feeling a certain internal heat and goose bumps when he was so close to this attractive boy; and Ivar seemed to notice, for he leaned a little closer too.

"You have to be either very brave or very stupid," Ivar muttered, and Heahmund gave a soft laugh before his hand brushed over Ivar’s cheek and pulled the boy closer with a firm movement.

_God, that smell, that cool skin, it was an incredibly tingly feeling_. That was the thought that shot through Heahmund's head before all thoughts turned off and he pulled the slightly rigid Ivar into a warm, soft kiss.

Whether it was the environment or not - this kiss seemed so much more relaxed than the last one at the lake, and Heahmund felt far more comfortable, more unobserved, far freer. The coolness on his lips was a blessing and stimulated all of his senses. It ran through his veins like a fast electrical network and shot into every cell, even into the fingertips. Especially when Ivar returned that kiss with firm pressure after a brief paralysis.

While the first kisses were tentative, careful and incredibly loving, the further ones became a hot-cold game of much more tongue and passion. Heahmund’s hands were clenched tightly around Ivar’s face, holding the boy in check, who returned every touch more than voluptuously; and it was not too long before Heahmund felt a soft, barely noticeable bite on his lower lip, which really made hot lust shoot through his veins.

Ivar parted easily; his cool breath hit Heahmund’s lower lip so beguilingly that the great Christian felt dizzy.

"I'm sorry." Ivar uttered, and the _way_ he said it sent Heahmund a torrent of pure lust straight into his dick - it was a breathy, lustful, _desiring_ "I'm sorry" spoken by someone who was not sorry at all - and it made Heahmund wild inside.

"What are you sorry for? Damn, you can do that the whole evening for my sake.", Heahmund replied roughly, and it didn't take a second, until thin and pointed fingers had clung to his face and pulled him into another, slightly biting kiss, which brought Heahmund's innards completely glowing. Those pointy teeth were a perversion of nature, he knew it... They were so sharp that Heahmund knew exactly how fast they could pierce his skin; and yet it was as if he wanted just that. His veins pounded wildly for desire, wanted more of this some kind of perverted game, more of this _danger_.

The ends of the pointed teeth bored into Heahmund’s lower lip again, and this time he felt it very well - they slid so desirably slowly over the skin that it lost a small drop of blood, because Heahmund’s skin tore easily under the soft pressure.

Ivar let out such a lustful moan in those seconds that Heahmund immediately got goose bumps; his hands began to sweat as he saw Ivar pulling away from his lips and gently running his tongue over his teeth. The bright eyes literally burned into his - there was an unbridled, wild fire in them, and Heahmund was only too happy to return the look. His nerves were bare, and his cock was already pounding in his pants so desperately that it hurt.

Ivar stared deeply at Heahmund for a moment, appraising what it seemed: the pale face had a touch of pink on its cheeks, and the lips looked slightly puffy from the violent kisses. Ivar stretched his chin a little and ran two pointed fingers to Heahmund’s chin. He fixed it between thumb and forefinger, and when he lowered his eyelids a little, he hissed softly: "Do you mind a little sex?"

Heahmund almost didn't believe his own ears - it was enough that he thought incessantly about sex with Ivar, but when the boy said these words so hard and suddenly, he really believed for a moment that he was in the wrong movie. He was breathless and he tried desperately to remember how to move his mouth to answer - but all he could do was giving a slight shake of his head.

That seemed to be enough of an answer to Ivar - he suddenly pressed Heahmund's back against the back of the sofa with a force that he would never have believed the boy could have, and sat with spread legs on the Christian's lap. It didn't seem to bother him in any way that he sat down in the middle of Heahmund’s hard erection - on the contrary. The boy, who suddenly seemed to be possessed by a demon, made two very unequivocally movements with his hips, which elicited a wordless, breathless gasp from Heahmund, with his mouth open - before Ivar again clasped his face with both hands and kissed the shocked Heahmund more than violently and urgently.

The coolness of Ivar’s body pressed itself like a blessing against Heahmund’s more than heated body, as if they were perfectly balanced in symbiosis. Heahmund felt, with a violent gasp, how Ivar used his sharp teeth again. They nipped his lower lip carefully at first, but then with much more emphasis; it wasn't long before the end of a tooth found a place to gently sink into. It was such a pulsating, perverse, exciting feeling, that Heahmund began to feel dizzy. He had his hands wrapped around Ivar’s waist with firm pressure, holding the boy so tightly it had to hurt - even if Ivar didn’t even begin to show it. As the first drops of the slightly metallic-tasting blood mingled on their lips, Ivar faltered for a moment - his body became hard as stone, and he easily peeled off from Heahmund's slightly trembling lips to taste the little blood with his tongue and licked it up soft like a feather. Heahmund’s eyes followed the game with a concentrated wave of lust; it excited him more than deeply when he saw how Ivar’s tongue took up the small drops of blood and they disappeared between his voluptuous full lips. He didn't know why - but the blood seemed to trigger a violent pleasure in Ivar, because the boy threw his head back slightly and let out a coarse, rough moan as he had licked the drops from Heahmund’s lips.

_God forgive me, because I have sinned..._

"You're such a damn bad boy..." Heahmund exclaimed out of nowhere, uncontrolled and lustful like a starved dog.

Ivar grinned slightly; his face was incredibly beautiful in the warm light, because it reflected more humanity than in all the time Heahmund had known him. The boy licked his lips again while his hands crawled slowly and firmly over Heahmund’s chest. Heahmund could feel the coolness even under his skin; with a soft sigh he leaned his head back a little before Ivar’s face came very close to his again. The smell drove him crazy.

"I am everything you want, Heahmund...", the boy uttered, and his lips pressed again on Heahmund’s with so much pleasure that the bishop truly took his breath away. Even now it bordered on the best sex he would ever have, with a boy who was whatever he knew how much younger - or older.

But the tingling of fear was miserably drowned in the next wave of pleasure that pierced Heahmund’s body when Ivar’s teeth nipped again at the previously bitten area. The pointy end of the teeth found access to Heahmund’s skin again, and Ivar bit him again - only this time much harder.

Heahmund let out a violent moan of pleasure - his senses burned so infinitely that he couldn't help himself. His rough hands found the hem of Ivar’s sweater, and with one smooth movement he pulled it over the boy's head. Ivar only grumbled briefly; his lips found Heahmund’s again quickly, while Heahmund’s hands slid lustfully over Ivar’s seemingly flawless, pale body. He was amazed that there were dark, ancient-looking tattoos on the fine skin that stretched almost completely over his chest and shoulders. He went crazy from the feeling of so smooth and cool skin under his fingers, and nothing burned in him more than the will to finally want to fuck this damn brat.

"I want you..." Heahmund uttered between two kisses; he was so dizzy with pleasure that it hurt. He had not noticed how bloody it had turned between them; when Ivar loosened his lips slightly, Heahmund could see a distinct red trail of soft drops on Ivar’s lower lip and teeth, which Ivar licked away quickly and with pleasure with his pink tongue. Ivar smiled beguilingly; his thin fingers ran lustfully over Heahmund’s belt, and he was so quick at opening his belt and jeans that Heahmund only noticed they were open when a cool hand reached into his boxer shorts and grabbed his hard cock.

He emitted such a dark murmur of pleasure that Ivar let out a soft gasp - the cold boy pressed himself against Heahmund with his bare torso, and when they both looked at each other heatedly and their eyes met for a moment, Ivar licked himself over his teeth with his slightly opened mouth and began to move his hand. Heahmund’s mouth opened; a silent moan escaped him, and he immediately tipped his head back and closed his eyes. _God, he wasn't going to last long, he just knew it by now._

In a light mist he felt that Ivar’s upper body was pressed even closer to him; his hand moved so perfectly and soothingly cold around Heahmund’s burning cock that he could already feel his first drops of pleasure.

"And I want to taste you, Heahmund..." the boy uttered breathlessly against his neck; Heahmund felt exactly how the cool tip of his tongue moved painfully slowly over the pulsating carotid artery, how Ivar’s lips moved softly over the skin, exactly over the violently throbbing vein. Heahmund got goose bumps - the sensation between fear of death and lust, the intoxicating feeling of Ivar’s hand around his cock and the dangerous teeth on his neck made him forget what he was doing here. When Ivar exhaled excitedly on his throat, Heahmund closed his eyes.

* * *


End file.
